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A Poet Nov 2021
As he leaves, he takes his memory.
His ways of being, his current of emotions,
His sweet honeydew smell, his way of being goodbye
and never.

Still nights, the superficial,
,
Without noticing you went from him,
to it, to a thing.
polished thing.
Falling, slipping
crying, sweet anguish thing.
Sweet thing, trapped in captivity of the entrails,
of the knot already forever binded,
blinded from the sobbing, you lose yourself
sweet thing.

Until one day, another stops the pain.
Stops it, and reduces it to an annoying
voice, a mysterious touch, to a resurfaced polish.
Offered, given, taken,
sweet thing the hidden loneliness all but awaits,
you fail to feel its quake as you play the game again.
A Poet Nov 2021
My vocabulary did not leave me,
I could write exquisitely,
  from transportive imagery,
to subtle allegory's
but when he left
I lost the words
I lost my song
I lost myself
so I take this h̶i̶a̶t̶u̶s̶
to learn to be free
to learn to be me
once more
I choose to live
A Poet Nov 2021
You give yourself to him,
        he takes and he takes,
             until your reflection is a stranger,
                                      a cheap, overly used, stranger.
  -He will n̶e̶v̶e̶r̶ love you.
A Poet Nov 2021
The saddest thing in this world,
   is constantly being used by him,
       and continuing to play the game, you are going to l̶o̶s̶e̶.
A Poet Nov 2021
We are born into this world to love,
Born to find it, lose it again and again,
in a reoccurring tune, like the phoenix each love must start anew.
So why am I b̶r̶o̶k̶e̶n̶? As I continue to ponder and long for you?
A Poet Oct 2021
Please hold me tonight,
  reignite the unspoken sparks,
     tell me its okay,
         & hold me tight,
            as you love me like our first night,
                  Lets pretend as if we are still love.
So , please h̶o̶l̶d̶ ̶m̶e̶ ̶t̶o̶n̶i̶g̶h̶t̶ . . .
A Poet Oct 2021
If you life up my sleeve,
  you will see one scar. . .
If you peer in my heart,
  you will see fragments of what is left. . .
They called it "attempted suicide"
  but I am a void, ****** into nothingness
I simply want to sleep. . . for us to meet again. . .
I want to be a̶ ̶d̶e̶a̶d̶ ̶p̶o̶e̶t̶. . .
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